dinner resverations
by dezel
Summary: Ivan makes dinner reservations for him and Amelia, after feeling neglected by her ever since she's become hyper-focused on her work.


_Whoops._

 _Okroshka soup is a cold soup served in Russia_

–

"I'm almost done." Amelia had promised that over an hour ago, hunched over a messy desk and pen scratching at a piece of paper. Her hair is a mess, usual star hair clips hanging at the ends of her hair, dark circles under her eyes and Ivan stands in the doorway, arms crossed over his chest. "I swear." Outside, the setting sun peeks from beneath the curtains, casting long shadows across the apartment. "And then we can head home."

Ivan steps in, and quietly closes the door behind him. "We have dinner reservations."

She barely looks up. "I know."

"We'll be late for them."

"I know."

"Arthur and Francis are waiting for us. I believe Mathew and Gilbert will be joining as well. It would be rude to keep them waiting."

Amelia pauses and draws in a deep breath. She lets it out through her nose. "Ivan," she starts, pauses and looks down at the paper. The letters and numbers look so strange to her now, her eyes burn and her stomach grumbles in anger at her neglecting both breakfast and lunch, her only source of food was the few cups of coffee she had consumed. "I think I've gotten a breakthrough on this."

"I think the biochemistry can wait until tomorrow." Ivan tries to persuade and Amelia mumbles something, and yawns. "if my patients can survive without me, this can survive without you."

"Except doctors are on staff all day and night," Amelia points out, tapping the end of her pen on the desk and stifles another yawn. "We don't."

"But overnight doctor's are not familiar with my patients." Ivan reaches out, and gently places his hand on her head, and threads his fingers through her hair. "You haven't slept in a few days. I hardly see you." His fingers slide through her hair, gently moving and caressing her cheek. "I miss you."

She nuzzles the palm of his hand, sighing softly. It's dry, but familiar. Christ, she misses college. His fingers brush over her lips, and she gives the pads a soft kiss. "Y'know," she says with a coy smile. "We're the only ones here right now."

"What are you suggesting?" His fingers linger, but slowly side down from her lips and traces the curve of her jaw and to her neck. The smile is knowing, either way.

Her eyes flicker up and down. "I do kind of miss you."

"Only 'kind of'?" There's a low chuckle from Ivan. "I am a bit insulted for that."

"What are you gonna do about it?"

"Push you to hurry up, because we _are_ going to be late. We all know how Arthur can get if we're even a minute late."

"He'll live." Amelia sighs, a little disappointed that Ivan had stopped their little exchange because she's now a little flustered and unable to focus much on the paperwork before her, not that she can really see it with Ivan leaning over the desk top. His hand hadn't left her neck, however. "You'll need to move because I need to get back to work."

Ivan trails his hand down her to her shoulder, and over, tracing over a breast. Amelia shifts a little, but not away from his touch. "But I thought you said you _kind of_ missed me?"

"I did." She agrees, now lightly swatting his hand away as it's become a distraction, gently kneading a breast through her clothes. "I love you, but this is important."

Ivan removes his hand, and circles around the desk and bends down, pressing a soft kiss to her cheek. "Can you bring your paperwork home?"

Amelia shakes her head. "It's confidential."

"You are doodling all over it." Ivan points out, and rests a hand on her thigh. "A...badly drawn eagle shooting lasers out of its eyes? Amelia, what?"

"It's a _super_ eagle," Amelia quickly covers the paperwork with her arms, shooting Ivan a dirty look. "It's gonna be what saves us all from the bad guys!"

"Who would even make it?"

"Kiku, of course! He's always up for that stuff."

"Am I talking to a teenager or a scientist right now?"

"A tired scientist." Amelia sighs, and shivers a little as Ivan presses a kiss to her ear and pushes a clump of her hair behind her ear. "An _exhausted_ woman." Ivan makes a little noise in the back of his throat, other hand moving upwards and over the hem of her pants. He plays with the button for a brief moment, waiting for a response from Amelia. "I miss your cooking." Is she now ignoring his advances?

"I'm sure you do." He remembers her look of disgust at the _Okroshka_ soup, the wrinkled nose and furrowed brows.

"Well, most." Amelia seems to be remembering the same thing. "I told you I hated cucumbers."

"You just have no taste."

Amelia snickers a little, reaching up and tugs at his tie, pulling him down into a light kiss. "What are you waiting for, you jerk?" She whispers, against his lips. Taking that as the okay, he rubs her through her pants for a brief moment, teasing her through the light fabric and her hips lift a little. Ivan uses both of his hands to unbutton and unzip her pants, and slides one hand into her panties, lightly rubbing circular strokes at her clit.

Amelia moans softly into the kiss, and Ivan pushes his tongue into her mouth. He can taste the remnants of the coffee she had been drinking earlier, and she lightly sucks at his tongue. They break the kiss after a moment, panting lightly and he gives her lips a soft lick. Ivan trails wet and noisy kisses along the side of her face, and down her neck. He bites at the skin as he goes along, softly as to not cause any actual harm. Once reaching her neck, he gives the pulse point a lightly suckle and she moans softly.

He pulls away after a moment, and she stares at him, longingly and lustfully. Her face is flushed and chest heaves up and down, as she moves her hips against his fingers. Ivan removes his fingers after a moment, and she lets out a little whine.

"Hey, get up on the desk."

"Our weight will break it." she whispers as she moves around on the chair. "Besides, we're not in some cheesy porno."

Ivan laughs a little. "Oh, I suppose not, but the chair isn't much better, either."

"Unless I ride you." Her fingers trail down his clothed chest for a moment. "We could also just fuck in the car."

"Don't be so crass."

"What, you want me to sound like a teenager?" Ivan stares at her and she clears her throat. "Okay," she draws in a deep breath and pitches her voice. "Oh, Ivan, we could do the thingy in the car! We could go to the secret cliff point, and get into the back! Our parents will never have to know!"

"Stop-"

"And we could like, become the couple of the year. I could receive your Letterman jacket as proof of our relationship, as well as your class ring-"

"No-"

"And oh, Ivan! Please, ask my parents for permission to date me!"

"Amelia-"

She stops for a moment, staring at Ivan's baffled expression and snorts a little. "I could find that stupid cheer leading outfit if we gotta get to that point too."

" _No_." Ivan says this too quickly. "I think you ruined the mood."

"Are you saying you _don't_ want to do me in a cheer leading outfit?"

"No! It would feel weird."

"I'd do you while you wear a cheer leading outfit. Skirt and all." Ivan opens his mouth to say something to that and closes it again, face screwing up into a strange expression. "I bet you'd look fantastic."

Ivan coughs a little. "I have married a strange woman." Amelia shrugs a little. "Strange then, and strange now. I suppose that can't be helped." He pushes the papers and taps the top. "Anyways, get on here or bend over."

Amelia shifts again, lifting her hips up to remove her pants and underwear. "I've got a better idea." The curious look makes her smile a little bit more. Ivan is just so pure, in such a strange way. He comes off as so sensual and sexual, but in reality, the poor thing is still bad at getting what she's alluding to most of the time. "You eat me out. I repay the favor by sucking your dick later."

"If it will make you hurry up."

"Just call him and tell him we'll be late. Or text him."

"I don't think he texts." Ivan says, as he gets in front of Amelia and kneels down. Regardless of if she'll hurry up for not, he's okay with this plan. Anything to make her melt in his hands like she used to. Besides, she's bad at multitasking, before their marriage and when they had been living in an apartment together, she had decided to clean while cook. She ended up forgetting about the food, and nearly set the complex on fire because of her negligence. Amelia tugs at a lock of his hair.

"I'll do it then." She mumbles as she picks up her phone, and Ivan unbuttons her shirt as far as he could and nudges her legs apart. He listens to her fingers tap across the screen and he gives her pussy a soft kiss, tip of his tongue licks at the wet slit. She gasps a little, and he can hear the pen scratching at the paper again but not as much as it had been.

One hand squeezes her breasts through her bra as best as he could as he gives her clit a soft suck, and she moans a little, hips jerking. He feels her leg twitch as little as he continues his ministrations, and runs his hands down her sides and legs, and into her inner thighs. Amelia's phone goes off, some auto tuned pop song resounding in her office, apart from her quiet moans.

Ivan can feel his erection straining against his pants, and he shifts a little. Pulling away from her, and she shudders a little and looks down at him, eyes half lidded and face flushed.

It's obvious she had stopped doing her work.

"Huh?"

"Can we?" He grunts, not even bothering to finish his sentence. If she doesn't want to, that's fine, he can take no for answer. Amelia doesn't respond for a moment, obviously catches her breath and he watches her expression.

"Yeah," she finally answers, swallowing. He gets up, and pulls down his own pants and grasps at her thighs, giving her a sharp pull so she's slouching forward, half of her body hanging off the chair and he lifts her legs up so they rest at his hips, and in return, she wraps her legs around him to try and get better leverage. Leaning forward, so there's very little space between them, he grips the base of his cock and slowly guides himself in.

Amelia squeezes her eyes shut, hoping her chair remains still for this and as if reading her mind, Ivan grabs at the arms of the chair and pushes inside of her, fully. Amelia lets out a loud moment, and wriggles her hips.

"Holy _shit_ , Ivan." She licks her lips, wrapping her arms around his shoulders and her hands entangle into his blond hair. They remain in their position, as if to get used to each other again. Her breathing is labored and hash while Ivan tries to level his own breathing. Damn, she forgot how big he was, it almost hurts. "Hey, _move_."

Burying his face into the side of her neck, Ivan slowly draws out and thrusts back in. She grunts a little at the movement, and tries to adjust her hips so he could be at a different angle. It takes a bit of movement, but now, finally comfortable, she digs her fingers into his back as he keeps the slow, steady pace.

"You can go faster, y'know," she whispers and whimpers a little as he does so. Their hips move together at an awkward, unsteady pace. Finally, Amelia pushes him off. "Hurts," she mumbles. "You get on the chair, I'll ride you."

With no arguments from him, Ivan moves away from her and leans up against the desk, so she could have some space to move. He watches her wince a little and reaches out, gingerly grabbing her hips and pulls her against his body. Ivan brushes his lips over hers, and she responds in kind, moving her hands down and grabbing his slicked up cock and gives a slow pump. They move about and he sits down where she had previously been sitting and spies a puddle from her and chuckles a little.

"Could make you lick that up," he whispers huskily. She gives him a light whack.

"We're not in some freaky BDSM shit." Amelia straddles his lap as she says this, fingers running through his damp hair. "And if we were, I'd totally dominant."

Ivan frowns. "Like hell."

"Yes, I would." she whines. "Or we'd switch. I mean, come on, you do everything I say." Ivan pulls her closer, lifting her hips back up and slides himself back in. She leans forward a little, foreheads touching breathy and her mouth opening in a silent moan. Ivan seizes this moment to kiss her, hand running along her back, and kneading at her ass and moving back around to her stomach.

"Right," he agrees. The argument is best to be settled for later. Amelia lifts her hips up, and pushes back down. Ivan meets her the best he can, swiftly undoing the rest of her shirt and pushing her pink bra up and squeezing at her breasts and lightly pinching her nipples.

Her movements become quicker as she gets used to him, at a much more comfortable position and one hand rests on his shoulder as the other moves between them, rubbing at her clit. He bites and sucks at her neck, collar bone and breasts, leaving bright red marks as he does so.

Amelia shudders, and Ivan moans as he feels her walls clamp down around his cock and she lets out a little groan, followed by a husk, _"Fuck."_ as she cums, slowing down her movements, obviously reaching a point of exhaustion. He doesn't blame her, with very little sleep for the last few weeks, there's no question that she'd be so worn out so quickly and easily. Without much thought, Ivan pushes forward, gripping at her back tightly as he pushes her against the desk.

He pulls out so the very tip of his cock rests at her opening, and thrusts back in, hard. Amelia throws her head back, moaning loudly and squirming as he repeats the motion, each time harder and faster than before.

She swears as she cums again, each orgasm coming faster than the previous. This had always been his favorite part. She trembles underneath him, fingers clawing at his sweat damp shirt, breath hot and heavy against his ear. Ivan rubs a little hard against her clit, biting softly at a nipple in the meanwhile. Ivan lets out a low grunt, pulling out as he cums and biting down at her neck, hard and drawing a little bit of blood.

Without thinking much about it, Ivan pulls away and bends down, licking at her inner thigh and gives her mound a soft kiss, tongue darting out and lapping at her slit much like earlier. Amelia gasps a little, overly sensitive at this point and she lurches forward and pulls at his hair. Ivan slides his fingers in, searching until he gets the response he's searching for. Sucking and licking at her sore clit as his fingers pump against her g-spot, he has to chuckle as Amelia starts to let out louder moans, pushing herself against his mouth and down against his fingers.

"Fuck, Ivan." she gasps as she cums again. "Fuck."

Ivan pulls away, satisfied now and licks his lips, peering up at her. "So, about our dinner reservations..."

"We have to get cleaned up first," she mumbles. "Cleaned up. A little nap would be great, too."

"We're an hour late." Ivan finally says, and Amelia scrunches up her face. "We will never hear the end of it,"

Amelia leans against him, sighing. "French food sucks, anyways."

"I do not think it was a French restaurant."

"If Arthur and Francis were involved, it would be." Amelia mumbles into his chest. "Arthur may not like it, but he does."

Ivan shrugs a little, peering at Amelia's phone, that lights up with Arthur's name. "It seems he is trying to call you."

"Arthur can go fuck himself. If they wanna eat dead snail, they can. I wanna take a little nap."

"What will I tell them?"

"I don't know. Lie. Work held me up, or something."

"Right. Take a nap in the car because I am not dressing you, nor carrying you out."

Amelia lets out a heavy sigh. "Be a good husband and do those things."

Ivan lightly taps at her inner thigh. "No."

She lets out a disgusted noise as she pulls away. "This mess will be fun for tomorrow." She stumbles as she grabs her discarded pants and underwear, pulling them on and re-buttoning her top. Ivan mimics her, fixing himself up as well. "Didn't carry me bridal style out of the church at our wedding, didn't carry me into the hotel. Nothing. You are awful at romance."

"I got you roses for valentines day," Ivan protests. "I cook you dinner. I made us dinner reservations that we _missed_."

"Yeah, yeah." Amelia grins at him. "I'll make it up to you. Tomorrow, okay? But no France or Arthur. Nor Mattie or Gilbert."

"Deal."


End file.
